The Gift (Huub de Lange)
- Editor: Huub de Lange (submitted 2006-08-11). Score information: A4, 5 pages Copyright: Personal
- Edition notes: Live recording 10/2004, Ursem, the Netherlands - vocal ensemble conducted by Eric Jan Joosse.
Original text and translations
You sent me flowers when I lay ill.
Their tender beauty seemed to fill
My room with all earth’s loveliness.
I thought my life rich heretofore
When busy hand and teeming brain
Gave me no pause to stay and pore
Over God’s wonders wrought so plain.
In flower and leave on every hand.
Ah me! I did not understand
How poor in very truth I was
until my weakness gave me pause,
Till I lay idle, lonely, ill,
And knew myself rich, rich indeed,
Rich beyond all desert or meed,
Showered by the infinite largesse
Of sweet and subtle loveliness
Revealed me hour by hour in these
Half-dozen delicate irises.